


stars fall, and the world goes blind

by shizuoh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Very Implied, san junipero au, u kno the black mirror ep with the gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shizuoh/pseuds/shizuoh
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov meets Katsuki Yuuri on a magical night in San Junipero. Viktor falls in love at first sight, while Yuuri is just there to live the life he's never had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> me posting this: a month without uploading he comes back with a tag,
> 
> if u havent seen the episode "san junipero" from netflix's black mirror, go watch it rn. this fic will make a lot more sense if you've seen it

San Junipero is a place of fun and excitement. It is a place where the lost can run free, and the found can live again.

It is the ultimate opportunity.

 

* * *

 

 

The moment Viktor opens his eyes, he was lost in a world of lights and sound. Standing in the center of the sidewalk, Viktor takes a moment to glance about and _wonder._ There are people laughing and kissing each other as they brush by him. There are cars honking and skidding across the road without a care in the world. There are dazzling buildings pulsing with music and the sounds of people moving, living, thriving.

San Junipero is a party town. No wonder it's so _alive._

Viktor turns all around, and finds himself laughing. He suddenly feels embarrassed for his sudden outburst, but when he looks at the people walking around him, they don't pay him any mind; they don't care. They're the same as he—laughing and giggling and smiling and _enriched_ in just sheer joy.

There's a club nearby, vibrating with sound and tunes. He sees someone grab their companion's hand and rush inside, quickly shoving past a pair of girls swaying side-by-side. Viktor curiously steps closer, quickly crossing the street and peeking inside the club. There's neon lights everywhere, a colorful dance floor, and the floor is filled with people of all kinds, of all shapes. Some dance together, some alone, and some stand towards the walls.

Viktor slowly makes his way inside, biting his lip and running a hand nervously through his hair. Despite always being one invited to parties, he was never that good at them. Most of his confidence was just a front. 

The music practically drowns him when he finally steps all the way in—it's like the world suddenly is moving in slow motion, people spinning on the dance floor like it's the last night they'll live. Viktor manages to make his way through them, feeling awkward and apologizing when someone very nearly trips over him. He catches them with one hand, pulling them up by the arm and spinning them around until they're facing him directly.

He moves them out of the crowd when he sees their head begin to spin.

"I-I'm sorry—" he starts, but the person he pulled aside puts a hand up and starts laughing.

"It's okay!" the person exclaims, and pushes red hair back with two hands. "It's bound to happen; this place is always so fucking crowded." The person eyes Viktor up and down and then smirks. "You a newbie? Tourist?"

Viktor awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and laughs. "Is it that obvious?"

"Totally," the person replies with a laughing tone, and her smile is bright. "I'm Mila."

"Viktor."

"A strong name," Mila jokes, and reaches up to pat either side of Viktor's forearms, squeezing gently and frowning. "So stiff! Loosen up a little, buddy!"

"Are you a full-timer?" Probably a rude question to ask someone he's just met, but he can't stop himself. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them.

Mila blinks in surprise, like she hadn't been expecting the question. Viktor figures it's not a question people usually get.

"Yeah," she replies after a moment's thought. "I am, and so is my girlfriend."

Girlfriend? Viktor thinks, and peeks over her head in hopes of finding a glimpse of her. "Oh? Is she here?"

Mila turns around and gestures vaguely towards the dance floor. "Probably dancing somewhere. I'll find her eventually." When Viktor doesn't say anything more, she stares at him and then the corners of her mouth turn upwards in a sly, mischievous smile. "You look nervous," she observes, and moves so she's locked her arm around Viktor's. "Come hang out with me. It'll be fun!"

Viktor can't find the energy in him to refuse (but also, he kind of doesn't want to), so he nods and lets Mila drag him halfway across the dance floor. They bump into laughing, sweating bodies, and at one point Viktor nearly slips. Mila catches him not-so-gracefully, and drags him the rest of the way to the bar. 

There's a woman sitting there cross-legged, sipping on what looks like a fruity drink. Her face immediately brightens once she sees Mila, and Mila quickly takes a seat next to her, dragging Viktor to the bar seat next to her.

"This is my girlfriend, Sara," Mila introduces, gesturing to the beautiful woman. Sara waves in reply, her lips pursed around the straw in her drink. "This is Viktor," Mila says, and leans in towards Sara's ear, "he's a _tourist._ "

Sara swallows down her drink, and sets the empty cup on a napkin. The bartender snatches it up immediately. "Ooh," Sara sings, and then laughs. Her hair seems to bounce around with every moment. "So you're new?"

Viktor nods. "Yeah... I'm doing a trial run."

"Nice!" Sara exclaims, clapping her hands together. "I think you are _definitely_ going to love it here, Viktor!"

Viktor smiles, and brushes some of his hair away from his face. "Ah, thank you. Sorry I'm acting so awkward."

"It's alright," Mila says, patting him on the back and grinning. "It's expected. Everyone's weird during their trial run."

Viktor opens his mouth to say something else, but he's interrupted by the sudden excited exclamations coming from near the dance floor. There's whoops and laughs, as well as whistles. Viktor raises his head a little to try and peak over the sea of dancers, but after a moment, he doesn't have to.

On one of the poles that holds the building up, someone who is shirtless pulls themself up onto it. They stand on the railing that separates the dance floor from the level of the club that has tables and booths, and pull away the tie that's laced around their neck.

"Is he serious?" Sara laughs, pointing towards the person on the pole, who is lifting himself up onto the pole and _dancing._ "I only see him here once a goddamn month!" Mila laughs with her, but Viktor can't find the energy in him to laugh.

His eyes are locked onto the man that dances. It's like the rest of the world is drowning out—anywhere that isn't the man's body is shielded in a blur. The rest of the shouting and cheering becomes distant. Viktor is glued to his seat, no matter how much he wants to get up and reach out and _touch._

The man spins around the pole, dropping so far he could fall, his head snapping back with a grin. When he turns again, his sharp eyes meet Viktor's. The world starts to move again.

"Look at his face," Mila whispers from beside him, and Viktor sees her nudge her elbow against Sara. "Why don't you go dance with him?" she manages out between giggles, and Viktor is well aware of how ridiculous he looks, rendered starry-eyed by a dancer he's just laid his eyes on.

He doesn't really care. Anything can happen in San Junipero.

Turns out he doesn't even have to walk all the way over—the dancer jumps off the pole and glides across the dance floor. It's like they're drawn together, and when they're close enough to finally look at each other, he's the most _beautiful_ person Viktor has ever seen. His eyes are the color of the earth, growing and grounding all at the same time.

They're _swirling_ with _something,_ and Viktor can't bring himself to refuse when the dancer takes his hand and pulls him forward.

 

* * *

 

 

Viktor opens his eyes to see the bright white walls of his hospital room. He blinks once, twice, and then shuts them again, in vague hope that he'd be back.

Memories dance through his mind. The dancer, spinning around with him, being _captivated_ by just his touch.

"I know you're awake," comes a familiar voice.

Viktor slowly turns his head, it's difficult, it hurts his neck to do it—Yuri is sitting there, idly flipping through some random magazine-hologram. He closes it when his eyes meet Viktor's, and he leans back on the chair. Viktor eyes him up and down for a moment.

"Your hair's gotten longer," he notes.

Yuri's hand automatically reaches up to touch his hair, and he sighs in frustration when he runs it through. His blond hair falls messily around his shoulders.

"You've been visiting me more often," Viktor says, and he hates how he has to wheeze out his words. "You should be at practice."

"Yeah, well," is all Yuri replies with, and makes an angry little huff like he's fifteen again.

Viktor laughs, and represses a groan when the action hurts him. "Do you miss me that much?"

"You were a good skater," Yuri admits, and while it's mostly nonchalant, his face is turned away a little as if saying it embarrasses him. "Not the greatest at coaching, but..." He slowly turns his gaze to meet Viktor's, and it holds. "You did your best, I guess."

"So kind, Yuri," Viktor fake-sobs. "You wound me. If I could move, I'd hug you."

"Don't even think about it, old man."

There's a silence between them. Yuri reopens his holographic magazine, idly flipping through it while Viktor watches him. It's not an awkward silence, but it feels as if it'd be better with some kind of conversation. Yuri has never been good at initiating that.

"I saw your last competition," Viktor breaks the silence, and Yuri looks up so quick his hologram turns off by itself. "You placed first. You did very well."

Yuri's face colors, and he shifts in his seat. "I guess," he murmurs.

Viktor snorts. "Don't act so shy. You know you did well. Your friend placed second too. What was his name again?"

"Otabek," Yuri replies, and then makes the scoffing noise he does when he's about to tell some ridiculous story. "And—like, this reporter lady told us we'd be a cute couple?" He scoffs, again. "Like... he's _way_ older than me, that's _really_ weird." He shakes his head and leans back against his chair. "He has a boyfriend anyway."

"That is weird," Viktor says. He wishes he could sit up, but his back is useless.

"How was your trial?" Yuri asks, only partly paying attention.

"Trial?" Viktor repeats, furrowing his eyebrows.

Yuri looks up like he's stupid. "San Junipero."

"Oh!" Viktor laughs, and then smiles to himself. His mind races with the dancer. "It was... magical."

Yuri pauses, staring at him with a strange look. "... Really."

"I met _so_ many wonderful people. A girl named Mila, you'd like her, Yuri, and a—" He stops. For the first time in a long time, his heart races. "A dancer. A _beautiful_ dancer."

"Don't get all gay on me now, Nikiforov."

"Oh, Yuri, I would _never,_ " Viktor drawls sarcastically.

A nurse suddenly steps in, looking half-worried, half-confused. She apologetically smiles in Yuri's direction. "I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over."

Viktor just barely catches the smile Yuri gets when the nurse says _sir._  "Can't he stay a few more minutes?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nikiforov, you know the rules."

 _Unfortunately,_ Viktor thinks, and bids Yuri farewell when he gets up from his chair and grabs his coat. Before the nurse escorts him out, Yuri turns around with a sly smirk, and says, "Have fun with your dancer."

Viktor only laughs, shaking his head. His fingers twitch when the door closes, and he's left alone in his white room yet again. The blankets that are wrapped over his limp body are too hot, but it's not like he can get up and pull them off.

He can't wait to set foot in the city again.

 

* * *

 

 

When he opens his eyes in San Junipero, the lights and the music blind him once again. This time he's dressed in something lighter, something that makes him seem like less of a tourist. 

Viktor sees the club across the street, and finds himself running towards it. Maybe he'll see the dancer again, maybe he'll see one of the girls again.

Except when he walks in, he sees none of them. He spends the rest of the night in San Junipero at the bar, watching the door, hopelessly waiting for the beautiful dancer to step through again.

 

* * *

 

 

The next night proves the same result. 

Viktor just wants to dance with him again.

 

* * *

 

 

The third night he waits, and he waits, Mila and Sara are at the bar again.

Viktor finds himself shoving past people to get to them. When the girls spot him running over, they smile and wave.

He takes a seat in between them, and nods when Sara hands him one of the fruity drinks she'd been drinking on the first night. He takes a sip, and it's one of the most delicious things he's ever had.

"Good, right?" Sara asks, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

"Not as good as the dancer boy from the other night," Mila jokes, leaning forward and propping her elbow up on Viktor's shoulder. She wiggles her eyebrows and sticks her tongue out between her teeth. "I saw you two, dancing together. You were tearing up the damn floor!"

"It was _awesome,_ " Sara says. 

"Is he... here?" Viktor asks.

Mila purses her lip and scans her eyes around the crowd. "Maybe. I haven't seen him since the night you danced together."

"He's a local," Sara supplies.

Viktor nods once, and leans up to glance over the crowd. Maybe it's a weak attempt, one in vain, and some dark voice in the back of his mind tells him he's never going to see the dancer again—

But then he sees it, the head of black hair, the familiar smile. This time, the dancer isn't shirtless and on a pole. This time, he is dressed in a leather jacket and tight jeans. This time, he shoots for the bar, and when he pushes past the people on the dance floor, his eyes are turned towards the ground.

Sara and Mila slowly move seats, giggling and whispering to each other.

The dancer looks up, and they meet eyes.

Viktor is frozen in his seat, his palms sweating. He wipes them against his pants, and widens his eyes when the dancer grins and immediately slides into the seat next to him.

"Hey," he says, his glasses slipping low on the bridge of his nose.

Viktor turns in the chair, and bounces his legs. "Um, hey." His heart is racing so fast he's sure the nurses back at his body are freaking out.

"I'm Yuuri," the dancer says and finally, finally Viktor has a name to put to the beautiful face. Yuuri pushes his glasses up with his hand, and runs a hand through his hair.

"Viktor," he blurts.

Yuuri snorts, and his shoulders shake when he laughs. It's the most beautiful sound Viktor's ever heard.

"You're new, I'm guessing?" Yuuri asks, leaning forward on the bar and crossing his arms over it.

Viktor nods. "Um, yeah. I don't—" He laughs to himself a little. "I'm sure it's really obvious."

Yuuri hisses through his teeth, but it's playful. "A little," he teases.

"How long have you been here?" Viktor asks, and wow, he apparently can't stop himself from asking stupid and invasive questions all the time. "I mean, in San Junipero."

Yuuri blinks. "Ah... a few months, I think? Not that long, really."

"Oh..." He really is a local. 

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it soon enough," Yuuri says, and it almost seems like he's scooted closer in the last few minutes. "San Junipero is a place that's easy to figure out." He finishes his sentence with a wink, and Viktor's face goes so red he feels like he's dying.

"Ah—I hope so," Viktor sputters, and he's usually more confident than _this._ He's lost his charm with his age.

Yuuri licks his lips and takes a look behind him. "Hey," he suddenly says, and he's super close, his breath tickling Viktor's ear. "You wanna go somewhere that's more quiet?"

Viktor's not sure what he's referring to, or what he's offering, but he's gotten this far, so he nods. Yuuri takes his hand and laughs, Viktor laughs with him, and Yuuri leads him towards the staircase near the back of the club.

When Yuuri pulls Viktor up, Viktor hears the whistles of the girls from a distance. He just rolls his eyes, and ignores them.

Yuuri takes Viktor up to the roof, and when he skips out into the open air he throws his arms out and spins. It's a bit chilly out, but it's a nice refresher, a nice change from the sweaty, humid atmosphere of the dance club.

"I like coming up here," Yuuri says, dropping his arms and looking up at the sky with wonder in his eyes. "It's a bit quieter, and you can see the stars better." 

Viktor steps out after him, and his heart jumps to his throat when Yuuri jumps on the edge, balancing on one foot and grinning. He wobbles his arms on the side of him, swinging back and forth until he lands safely on both feet.

Viktor puts a hand over his chest and walks up to him. "Please never do that again."

"My pain slider is set to zero," Yuuri says. "Even if I fall, which I won't, I'll be fine." He takes a few steps, before turning and looking down at the streets. 

Viktor follows suit, sitting on the edge and swinging his legs over. "How... how many of them do you think are dead?" he asks, watching as the people in the cars and on the sidewalks dance and sing to each other. It's all very lively.

"Like a percentage?" 

"I guess."

"Hmm..." Yuuri purses his lips in thought, and drops down beside Viktor. He kicks his legs back and forth. "I'd say... 75%, at least."

"That's... a lot."

"Yeah, well," Yuuri sighs. "Some people just want to live forever, I guess." The way he says it implies there's something more, like a story, but Viktor puts it aside. 

"Sorry if I ask too many questions," Viktor blurts suddenly.

Yuuri stares for a moment, like he hadn't been expecting it, but then he just smiles and shakes his head. "No worries. I like answering them." He turns his head to look at him, and that's when Viktor realizes just how close they are. Yuuri's hand is behind him, and their thighs are pressed together. With every passing moment, it's like Yuuri is coming closer.

Viktor moves his head back on instinct.

"You know, I can show you just how fun San Junipero really can be."

It's said in a whisper, in a hot whisper, and Viktor goes red down to his neck.

He should refuse, his trial time is almost up, probably—he should say no and go back downstairs, go joke with Sara and Mila again.

Except he doesn't do any of those things. 

"... Okay."

And Yuuri kisses him.

 

* * *

 

 

Even outside of San Junipero, Viktor can feel Yuuri's touch on him.

He can feel the heat, the pull, the utter _pleasure_ of that night.

He can _hear_ everything. 

As he lays in his hospital bed, remembering everything, his heart starts to race so bad the nurses come in, all in a panic.

 

* * *

 

 

"I don't _care_ about your sexual endeavors, Viktor."

"But Yuri, it's—"

" _No._ "

 

* * *

 

 

The next time he awakens in San Junipero, it's almost like Yuuri is avoiding him.

When he's in the bar again, Yuuri immediately leaves. When he sees him on the streets, Yuuri rushes into some other building like he doesn't exist.

It's frustrating.

 

* * *

 

 

"Maybe he's embarrassed," Mila suggests when Viktor brings up his problems. "Did anything... _weird_ happen when you two—"

"Mila!" 

"What!"

 

* * *

 

 

One night in a different era, Yuuri is too distracted by an arcade game to notice Viktor walking up to him.

Viktor spins him around, and Yuuri startles so bad that he presses a wrong button on the machine. The character on the game dies, and Yuuri lets out a frustrated sigh. 

"You've been avoiding me," Viktor accuses, narrowing his eyes.

Yuuri looks anywhere but him. "I—don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Viktor says firmly, and crosses his arms. "What, do you just fuck people and toss them aside?"

"No!" Yuuri exclaims, and looks offended that Viktor would even suggest he's that kind of person. "San Junipero is a place of _fun!_ We were just having fun!"

"Fun—" Viktor sputters out, and they're definitely making a scene in the middle of the arcade. People are staring. "You don't—" Memories of their first night begin to replay. The way they danced, the way Viktor's heart danced, the way they connected in a way Viktor never had felt before. "You don't understand what that meant for me," he hisses out through gritted teeth, and turns away to storm out of the arcade.

He's out on the street, in the cold, but the anger inside him is so hot he doesn't feel the wind. He hears a vague shout of his name from behind him, but ignores it, and only walks faster. The sounds of laughing people annoy him—how dare they be cheerful when he's boiling inside?

"Viktor!" comes the shout again, louder, and suddenly there's a hand on his wrist that's spinning him around. It's Yuuri, and he's panting, sweating, and his grip on Viktor's wrist tightens. "W-wait."

"What?" It comes out harsher than Viktor intends.

"I—" Yuuri starts, and cuts himself off. He looks towards the ground, and hangs his head. "I'm sorry." His grip on Viktor's wrist loosens slightly, and Yuuri's shoulders shake. "I shouldn't have... I..."

"Yuuri—"

"I'm dying," Yuuri spits out, and it almost looks as if he's going to cry. "I'm _dying,_ and all I want to do is have fun before then. Before... that." He covers his face with both of his hands, and Viktor's arm falls back to his side. He's helpless, just watching. "I told myself not to get attached, not to feel a _genuine_ connection to anyone in this godforsaken place, but—" His breath is full of hiccups, and when he pulls his hands away he's crying. "It's _you!_ I couldn't stop thinking about _you!_ Ever since the night we danced it's been you... and ever since the night we slept together... it's been worse. You broke my rule." He sniffs, and wipes his tears away with his sleeve. " _You_ messed _everything_ up."

Viktor pauses, and he's rendered speechless. He doesn't know what to say, because he's dying too, he wants to have fun too, but he just stays silent as Yuuri sobs into his hands. He wants to reach out and hug him, but maybe it isn't the right thing to do. He feels like crying himself, but he's already made enough of a scene as it is.

"You're all I can think about, too," is what he says instead of anything else he could have.

Yuuri's crying halts, and he sniffles before glancing up. A moment of silence passes between them.

"I hate you."

"No you don't," Viktor refutes, and kisses him.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri's house is one by the beach, one surrounded by sand and splashing waves. 

Viktor stands only in briefs, stretching his arms over his head. Yuuri lays on the bed, the covers hiding the lower half of his body. When Viktor turns around, Yuuri is grinning at him.

"What?" Viktor asks.

"You're beautiful."

The sudden compliment takes him aback, and Viktor blushes lightly before snickering. "No, it's _you_ that's beautiful." He crawls back onto the bed and flops onto Yuuri, tracing mindless patterns into his skin.

Yuuri hums at the touch, and closes his eyes.

They stay like that for a while, and Viktor turns his head to look at the time. It's almost midnight.

"You said you were dying," he murmurs. "What do you mean?"

Yuuri turns around so he's laying on his back, and Viktor's chest is over his stomach. "Well..." he sighs, and stretches his arms above his head. "I've had this... disease, you know, ever since I was a kid." He nods his head and bites at his lip. "I never really went outside, and the only kid I ever really played with was my sister. Well, I grew up isolated and always in hospital rooms. Never any... _real_ adventures. I only ever had one friend, his name was Phichit." Yuuri stops, and his heart twists. "When I got older, it... got worse. It's spread to the rest of my body."

Viktor's stopped tracing patterns. His eyes are wide.

Yuuri lifts his head a little. "They said I had three months to live six months ago. It could be any day now."

"Oh..." Viktor murmurs.

"Hey," Yuuri says, suddenly. "Visit me."

"Huh?"

"In the real world." Yuuri sits up, and his eyes are sparkling with excitement. 

"I... can't," Viktor says, and Yuuri nods in understanding.

"Then let me visit you."

"But," Viktor hesitates, "I... don't want you to see me."

"Why?"

"I'm... pathetic to look at."

"I doubt that," Yuuri says, and tilts his head. "Where are you at?"

"Saint Petersburg," Viktor replies after a moment's pause. "Russia."

"Shit," Yuuri says. "I'm in Japan."

"Oh..."

There's a beat of silence.

"I'll still come."

"Wha—"

"I will," Yuuri says firmly, and kisses Viktor's forehead. "I'll come. Wait for me."

The clock strikes midnight.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a week for Yuuri to convince his doctors to let him take a trip to Russia in his condition, but it eventually comes through, and he flies the next day.

The hospital Viktor is stationed at is all white and glass, high in the hills with a beautiful view of a nearby lake. It's quite cold, which worries the nurse Yuuri travels with, but it's nothing he hasn't felt before.

"He's been expecting you," the lady at the front desk says when she checks Yuuri in.

The halls of the hospital are large and vast, and Yuuri is glad he has someone leading him or he'd get lost otherwise.

The room Viktor is in is large and empty, minus the few chairs and the hospital bed in the corner. Viktor, weathered with age and rendered useless, lays in the bed. When he hears the door open, he turns his head. When he sees Yuuri sitting beside him, rendered to a wheelchair, his smile is so bright it's brighter than the white that covers the walls.

"Yuuri," he says, in his old, wheezing voice, and it's one of the most beautiful things Yuuri's ever heard.

"I told you I'd come," Yuuri says, his voice soft. He reaches up and runs his hand gently over Viktor's bald head. "Russia is pretty weird, y'know."

Viktor laughs, followed by a harsh cough. "You're telling me."

The nurse that is attending to Viktor rubs her arm and moves towards the back of the room to give them as much privacy as possible. Yuuri eyes her from the corner of his eyes and pushes his glasses up.

"The nurse told me you're scheduled to be euthanized."

"Ah..." Viktor murmurs, and closes his eyes. "I'm going full-time."

"I see..." Yuuri hesitates. "When is it happening?"

"Tonight."

Yuuri's skin runs with chills.

"I don't want to be confined to a hospital bed anymore," Viktor says, with some difficulty. "I... I just want to be able to run and walk again."

"I know, Viktor." Yuuri leans forward and takes his hand. "I know."

 

* * *

 

 

"A car accident."

"Really?" Yuuri whispers to himself, sipping on the coffee the nurse oh so gratefully bought for him.

"Viktor was such a successful skater," the nurse sighs. "He won five consecutive gold medals at the World Championships, and even one at the Olympics! But then he retired, and turned to coaching. His old pupil, um, Yuri Plisetsky, I think, comes to visit sometimes." She shakes her head. "Anyway, one night while driving home, he—got rammed by a drunk driver. It rendered him paralyzed, and he's been at this hospital for fifteen years now."

"Fifteen years..." Yuuri repeats. "... That's... wow."

"Yeah," the nurse agrees, and taps her fingers against her leg. "It's really sad. I just want to see him be happy, y'know?"

Yuuri takes another long drink. "Yeah," he says. "I know."

 

* * *

 

 

Viktor is euthanized later that day. His old pupil, Yuri Plisetsky, is there.

Yuuri watches as his consciousness is permanently uploaded to San Junipero.

He can't describe it as sad. It's more... of a gloomy feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

In San Junipero, Viktor feels something else entirely.

He feels free.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri meets Viktor on the beach. He's in a short white sundress, running barefoot across the sand until he's in Viktor's arms.

"I told you I'd visit you!" he exclaims.

Viktor laughs in reply, and spins around in the sun. "This is so... amazing!"

Yuuri smiles, but his heart hurts.

"I'm sure it is."

 

* * *

 

 

They spend the rest of the day together, kissing, dancing, cuddling, laughing, walking together side-by-side. It's a nice night. 

They take Yuuri's car to a cliff, where they sit and watch the stars, sitting on the hood of the car and holding each other.

"I love it here," Viktor says. "I feel alive again."

"Ironic," Yuuri jokes, "considering you're, y'know, dead."

Viktor shoves him and laughs, and they lace their hands together. 

"You should join me," Viktor says. "Full-time."

Yuuri stops, and his heart drops to his stomach. "I..."

Viktor leans up. "Is there a problem?"

"No..." Yuuri says automatically, and then shakes his head. "I mean, _yes,_ I—" His words are caught in his throat, and he can barely get anything out. Sliding off the hood, he turns his back to Viktor and runs his hands down his face. "I'm not..."

"You're not.. what?" 

"San Junipero." Yuuri turns. "I'm not... I'm not staying."

"You're..." It takes Viktor a few moments to realize what he's saying. "You're—you're not gonna be here full-time?"

"No."

"Why?" Viktor is genuinely confused. "You get to live forever! And I thought... you and me.... well—"

"I just can't," Yuuri says. "You don't understand. You—"

"Help me understand." Viktor steps forward and takes Yuuri's hands. 

Yuuri's eyes are already welling with tears. "My best friend. He—" Shaking his head, he wonders if he can even tell the story, but Viktor is cupping his face and wiping his tears away with his thumb. "The San Junipero program was invented two years ago. My best friend— _died_ three years ago." He hiccups, and pushes away Viktor's hands. "He... never got the chance to live again. Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"See, you don't understand!" Yuuri shouts. "You—can _never_ understand what he meant to me. He was the _only_ friend I ever had. And he.... he d _ied,_ before I did. He died a _year_ before we could live again."

Viktor stammers. "He... would want you to be happy, though, right? So you can—"

"You don't know anything about him!" Yuuri protests, his face red from anger. "Stop _acting_ like you know everything!"

"I-I don't know everything. I'm just... suggesting." Viktor lowers his head. "I'm sure he was a good person."

"He was," Yuuri sobs. "And I'll never see him again."

"Yuuri—"

"Just, stop." Yuuri angrily hops in the car and slams the door shut. Before Viktor can go after him, he backs it up and speeds down the road, dust flying behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

The road is dark, and he can barely see a thing even with the headlights on. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Yuuri takes off his glasses to wipe at his flowing tears. 

He feels pathetic, he feels stupid.

He wants to die.

Yuuri impulsively swerves his car over the road, and crashes into a roadblock. His body goes flying through the front window, and he skids to a stop on the ground near the edge of the cliff.

He lays there, eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable pain that comes after a car crash—but nothing comes. He's in San Junipero. He feels no pain.

Frustrated, Yuuri pushes himself up with two arms, and glares at the ground. His vision is blurry without his glasses.

"Yuuri!"

When he turns his head, the blurry figure of Viktor is running towards him in a panic. He hops over the roadblock, pauses to stare at the car, and then rushes over towards Yuuri's body.

Just before they can touch, the clock strikes midnight, and he disappears.

 

* * *

 

 

"Yuuri," his sister pleads. "Are you _sure_ you want to—"

"I'm sure," he says, one final time, and smiles as he pats her hand. "I'm sure."

 

* * *

 

 

_San Junipero is a place of fun and excitement. It is a place where the lost can run free, and the found can live again._

_It is the ultimate opportunity._

 

* * *

 

Viktor sits alone on the beach, legs crossed, feeling the tides come up and tickle his feet. He draws patterns into the wet sand, stacking some up into a little pile before mashing it. The sun is blinding him, and he lifts his hand to shield his eyes from it. The oceans crash against the rock, against the beach, like they're telling him something.

A car honks from a ways back. Viktor turns around, and sees Yuuri waving at him from the front seat of his car.

Viktor stops, and it's like it's the first night all over again. Yuuri is waiting for him now.

When he scrambles to his feet and runs over to him, the golden ring on his finger glints in the sunlight.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in one night please kill me
> 
> [tumblr](http://haikuyus.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [yoi sideblog](http://viktcrnikiforov.tumblr.com/)


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